


The Last Thing

by Haecceitic



Series: Ripples and Echoes [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 18:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17688479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haecceitic/pseuds/Haecceitic
Summary: A missing moment from S1E8.Eleven accepts Mike's love, decides she is worthy of it, and realizes she must sacrifice herself because of that.Or, Eleven derives ethics from first principles, the very first principle being, of course, Mike.





	The Last Thing

Eleven doesn't know what to do.

She's tired. So tired. Drained.

This has been the longest day of her life. Day Six, she reminds herself. Eleven keeps track of the days, just in case.

She barely slept, last night in the forest. And then... the store, the quarry, the van, the bad men… and now she's lying on a table in the school, drained. She feels like she's in the Bath, underwater, wearing a heavy helmet. Nancy's pink dress is still damp from the pool, and Eleven is cold, too cold to even shiver. The shirt given to her by the man called the Chief doesn't help much.

She has used her power too much today. The telekinetic girl can taste her own blood. If she has to use her power again... she doesn't know what will happen. Eleven only knows it will hurt, and she will bleed. It will hurt a lot.

Like a clutching net of wires, tightening. Squeezing her skull until it cracks.

But the Demogorgon is close, and she's scared. Panicked. It's hunting her. She can hear the bad men shooting at it. She needs to run away, like she did the first time. But she can't move right now. She's dizzy and she feels far away, somehow, like she's looking through a pipe. Like she's still stuck in the pipe she crawled through, to get away the first time.

If she can't figure out what to do... the Demogorgon is going to kill everyone. Just like it killed Nancy's friend. Eleven can feel the panic closing in like the pipe, like the walls of a tiny room. She sees Barbara's slack face again, and the slug. Gone. Gone! 

And, because she's lost and scared, she thinks of Mike. It's hard not to, because he's very close. He's right in front of her, holding her hands. He's telling her something. Telling her to hold on a little longer. His skin is warm. She takes a breath.

She studies his warm, gentle eyes, crinkled in concern right now, and the spray of stars across his face. Mike taught her the right word, freckles, but to Eleven they're stars. Like the sky at night. Very pretty. She feels her heart slowing. She thinks of the book on his shelf, the one with "Don't Panic" in bright letters on the cover. She doesn't know what the book is about. But the words are very… Mike.

There are a lot of things she doesn't know. So many words! She didn't need to know things, before, in the lab. Before Day One. She was a test subject, the eleventh one, and that was all. She didn't even know there were so many other things to know.

And it's a weird thing, this knowing. For every fact she learns, she finds out about ten completely new things. Every answer leads to ten new questions! She wonders if there is ever an end to knowing. And what do you do, once you know the last thing? 

Eleven tries to think in the same way that Mike always explains: 1, then 2, then 3. In a straight line, like following the train tracks through the forest, counting the wooden boards. And counting helps, when she wants to remember. But thinking is hard, because of not knowing, and she gets lost. Mike always explains for her, when she's lost. Sometimes with words, which are hard for her. And also other ways.

Mike wants to go to the Snow Ball. With her. She's not sure what that means, but it sounds nice. It must be nice, because Mike wants to go, and Mike is nice. It makes her stomach flutter, to think about him asking her. And what he did to explain it, when the words didn't work. When his lips told the secret to her lips.

Mike says Eleven will live with him, once this long, long, long day is over. If they survive. If they escape this room. She will live at Mike's house, where her fort is. She won't have to hide anymore. Mike promises. Pretty Nancy will be Eleven's sister. Eleven has never had a sister. It sounds very nice.

But Mike won't be her brother. That's the wrong word for what he will be. He will be her… more-than-friend? That doesn't seem right. Words are hard. She gives up. He will be her Mike.

Eleven will be his… she doesn't know that word either. But she wants to find out. She wants to be that. More than a friend. Closer. The idea pulls her, makes her heart squeeze, like racing downhill on Mike's bike, faster and faster.

They will go to the Snow Ball, together.

"Promise?" Her voice cracks from the effort of talking.

Mike looks at her, only at her, his eyes full of tears. He's studying her face, too. He knows. He can see how drained she is, how little she has left. And he says the word. The word that he taught her. "Promise."

Together. She wants that.

But it's a new thing, this wanting, and she's not sure about it yet. Is it okay, she wonders, to want something? She's just Eleven, just a test subject. And he's... well, he's Mike. Does she even deserve a Mike? If she survives, does she really get to choose?

She doesn't know. She tries to figure it out the Mike way, the train tracks way.

Papa says she's bad, when he sends her to the room. Not her bed-room, which has a bed. The room has nothing. The room is small and cold. The room is very, very dark. She can't think about the room. The room is called Panic.

Papa also says she's dangerous. He says she hurts people. He said it again, today. Before the Demogorgon came.

He means, she's a monster.

The Demogorgon roars, and guns are firing, much closer than before. Everyone else jumps to face the door.

Monsters hurt and kill, for no reason at all. Monsters don't get to choose what they want. Monsters have to be kept locked away. Which is why she lived in the lab. And it's why Papa sent Eleven to the room, whenever she was bad. She was bad a lot.

But she's not a monster. Papa lied.

Eleven knows she's not a monster. She knows, because Mike told her, at the quarry. She doesn't want to think about what almost happened at the quarry. When she was almost too late to save him. Her stomach lurches dangerously.

But, after, she told Mike her secret. That she opened the Gate. That Lucas was right. That Papa was right. That she was the monster. She didn't want to tell him, didn't want to see his gentle eyes go flat and cold, once he understood. But she did it anyway. Because she couldn't stand it anymore. Because Mike deserved to know.

And then... Mike said she's not a monster. He didn't even stop to think about it. And he smiled, like it was a funny idea. And he hugged her. Kneeling there in the dirt, with Mike's arms around her, she felt… something loosen in her chest. In her heart.

Mike is her friend. She knows it's true. A friend is someone you would do anything for. And Mike does that, for his friends. For Will, he never gave up looking. For Dustin, to keep him safe, Mike…. She forces herself to think it. Mike jumped into the quarry. And, he does the same for Eleven.

Mike found her in the rain, the evening of the first day. The first day worth counting. He gave her warm clothes. And built her a fort. And made her safe. And believed her. And kept her hidden. An image flashes through her mind: Mike, crouching by her fort. "Maybe we could call you... El, short for Eleven?" And then waiting. Waiting for her to choose her own name. He gave her... a choice.

So many things.… Mike tries to keep her safe. He always tries. He's never stopped trying, over the last six days. No matter what. Not even when he could have been killed.

He taught her what a friend is. Not just with words, which are hard. Over, and over, and over, he showed her.

Mike told her she's not a monster. And Mike is her friend.

And friends don't lie.

She's not a monster. She's someone.

And now the gunfire stops. In the sudden silence, Dustin asks if the monster is dead. Eleven knows it isn't.

She's someone who has friends. Mike is her friend, and Dustin, and Lucas. That makes three. Will is her friend, too. Does that count, she wonders? Even if he doesn't know it, even if he's stuck in the Upside-Down?

She thinks it still counts. Lucas was still her friend, even when he thought she was a traitor. Because she pulled his compass needle away from danger, away from the magnet-power of the Gate. She made the compasses lie. But after he saw what the Bad Men tried to do, he said he was sorry. Lucas saw that she was his friend, all along, even when he didn't know it.

So Will counts, she decides. Four.

There's one more friend. Joyce is her name. Will is her son. She only met Joyce today, but Eleven knows. She has met other people, and maybe they count, but with Joyce, she's sure. Five friends.

Joyce makes her feel… safe? Warm? An image flashes through her head: Joyce, talking to her, only to her, and somehow seeing the brave little girl Eleven better than anyone ever has. Telling her it's going to be okay. And... thanking her. Eleven's eyes are stinging, and she's not sure why. She swallows past a lump in her throat. Maybe Joyce is more like a sister, like Nancy will be.

Or maybe, the way Joyce makes Eleven feel is more like… like a --

The door smashes in. The Demogorgon is here. There's nowhere to hide. Everything about the monster looks bent, wrong. It has no face.

She wants to scream, but can't. She's still heavy, underwater. But her mind is moving very fast. She thinks she almost understands something. Something important. She just needs to follow the train tracks a bit farther.

Her friends are trying to keep her safe right now, with the rocks. Dustin carried her earlier, and Lucas is using his wrist rocket now. A friend is someone you would do anything for. Eleven is someone, and they're trying to save her from the Demogorgon.

And she would do anything to save them, too. She knows it's true. Because Mike told her. He explained it. Mike showed her the truth. And Mike is good.

But, she thinks, maybe there's another reason why it's true. Maybe Papa lied about this, too. Papa isn't her friend, she reminds herself. He lies. And friends don't lie. Every word, every touch was a lie. Papa is bad.

The other reason is… maybe Eleven is someone who isn't bad.

Eleven used the radio to hear Will, on the fourth day. She keeps track of the days, just in case. Today, she saved Mike at the quarry. She saved three of her friends from the speeding vans. She tried to find Barbara, who was gone. But she did try. She found Will, who is alive. Now Joyce and the Chief can save him. Those are all good things. They count.

Lucas fires at the Demogorgon. There are three rocks left. Mike is shouting something. Dustin slaps another rock into Lucas' hand, but it's not working. The monster is getting closer. It has no eyes, but it's staring at Eleven, somehow. Hunting her. It knows her. It remembers.

Eleven remembers, too.

Eleven opened the Gate, which is bad. She didn't mean to, and maybe it doesn't count.

She hurt Lucas, on the fifth day. Which is bad. It was an accident, and she said she was sorry, so maybe that doesn't count either.

She has killed, which is bad. Very, very bad. And it wasn't an accident. Maybe Papa was right after all.

But… she didn't kill for no reason. It was to save her friends. She had to save them from the Bad Men with guns… and the Bad Lady. The one whose smile was a lie. The one who smiled, and then killed the nice man from the first day... Benny. Benny, who might have been her friend, before Eleven even knew the word. The Bad Lady killed Benny, just like the Demogorgon killed Barbara.

The Bad Lady and the Bad Men would have killed Eleven's friends. Would have killed Mike! And that was not okay. So, she stopped the bad people. She reached into their skulls with her power, and squeezed. Like a net of wires, tightening. Crushing their brains to pudding. All of them. Now, they will never kill anyone again. No more killing.

No more.

Maybe, she thinks, that almost makes the very bad thing, killing, count as good? Because she made the bad people stop? She's not sure, but she hopes it counts. She hopes so. If not, she thinks, she will have to do something very very good, to make up for it. To pull the compass back the other way, so the needle points closer to the truth.

Eleven didn't want to kill the bad people, but she had no choice. She's not stupid. She knows some of the Bad Men were just doing what Papa told them to do. They probably had friends, who must miss them. She feels very sad about it.

Do bad people feel sad? She's not sure. Even their smiles are a lie. Maybe their tears are, too? Her tears don't feel like a lie, though.

There are two rocks left. The monster is almost on top of them. Even though her nose is blocked with blood, the horrible stink coming from the monster's mouth-face is making her sick. It shrieks, and the panic closes in around her head. She hasn't quite figured out the important thing, but her time is up.

She must be good, she thinks. Eleven is almost sure it's true. She wants to be good.

She gasps. Maybe…. Maybe wanting to be good is the important part? As long as you try?

Maybe, she can just… choose to be good?

She thinks of his stars, and his gentle eyes. She thinks of the quarry.

It's the easiest choice she will ever make. And also, the most painful one. Like stepping off a cliff to save a friend.

Eleven chooses.

She's good. Like Mike is.

She wants to be his… El.

She wants it. And she decides it's okay to want things. Even things she will never have. It's okay to feel sad. Monsters don't feel sad, but she's not a monster. She's someone. Her tears are the truth. It's okay to cry about things she wants, promises that won't come true.

Because now, she understands. There are a lot of things she doesn't know, but she does know this.

Barbara was someone, too. She was Nancy's friend. But she's gone. The Demogorgon killed her, for no reason. Barbara never got to find out. She never got to be someone's Barb.

This is what the telekinetic girl knows: She can't let it happen again. She can't. And it's not to line up the good in front of the bad, like the train tracks. It's not to pull the compass needle back, so it points to the truth. It's not even because of what she wants.

It's because of who she is.

Mike jumped because he couldn't fail to jump... and still be Mike. She chose that. She is that. Someone who tries. Who always tries. Who will never stop trying. No matter what.

That's why Mike thought her secret was funny, at the quarry. She's not a monster. Not even close. She's the opposite of a monster. And now, she knows. She knows she deserves a Mike. But, there's something she has to do. Something she has to stop.

No more Barbaras. She will not let it happen, not to her friends. Not to anyone.

No more.

But it will take everything that's left. Her power, and her blood. It will hurt. Like a clutching net of wires, crushing her skull.

It will be the end.

Six days, she thinks. She keeps track of the days, to help her remember. Just in case.

Just in case the images in her head are all she's allowed to have. Just in case none of it is real, and Subject 011 wakes up back in the lab. Just in case all she deserves, after everything that's happened, is grey hallways, and numberless days, and tests, and lies, and the room.

Six days. An image flashes through her mind: Herself, on the back of Mike's bike, clutching his backpack, the sun warm on her face. The dizzying size of Hawkins, of the world, suddenly clear.

Six days of light, and color, and wind, and sun, and stars… and friends.

She feels her heart twist in sadness. Six days. Five friends. It's all she's allowed to have. It's not enough.

But also, it's more than she ever imagined. For six days, she hasn't been all alone. She has been…

Happy?

She's almost sure that's the right word.

But Mike! She's so, so sorry to break their promise. She hopes he'll be okay, that he won't miss her too much. She sees another image: Mike, sitting alone in the blanket fort, looking pale and faraway and broken.

She deserves Mike… and that's why she can't have him.

She hopes he can forgive her.

Her chest aches, and she can only breathe in sobs. Together. She wanted to find out what it's like…. She really wanted to find out.

She tries to wipe away her tears, and discovers that she can move her arm, a little. She doesn't feel so heavy now. She's still scared. But it's okay. She's not going to run this time. She's going to haul herself to her feet, one last time, drained or not. And end this.

Because now, she knows the last thing.

She hopes dying doesn't hurt as much as knowing.

This is the last rock. The Demogorgon is reaching for them. For her friends. For Mike. And that is not okay.

El knows what she has to do.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: This story is standalone, but a version of it will be a chapter in the longer work Ripples.
> 
> I'm sorry! I know this is very sad. I'm not trying to kill you, honest.
> 
> Okay, I'll admit this is highly derivative of the excellent pathvain_aelien. The key sentence in The List: "Eleven is, in her own way, a very careful thinker." really stuck with me. If you haven't read that, go do it now, by the way.
> 
> I think there is ample evidence that Eleven, though verbally impoverished, is a very quick study and can work things out. I like the idea of her using logic, of a sort, and Mike's axioms to get to the conclusion we see. That moment, that happens offscreen, is arguably the most important one in the first season, since it's a final repudiation of her abusive upbringing at the hands of Brenner.
> 
> It's not canon, but I refuse to believe that Mike Wheeler didn't have a copy of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his shelf, and I make no apologies for the "Don't Panic" reference.
> 
> Did I have Eleven add Joyce as a friend because I wanted six days + five friends to make eleven? Well, maybe. But I also wanted to underline that Eleven has never had a proper parental figure of any kind. So she's confused about Joyce's mothering impulse, and gets it sort of wrong. She had not had enough exposure to Hopper at that point to feel anything similar toward him.
> 
> Maybe I'm weird. It all came to me when I was stuck in traffic, and I dictated the core of this to my phone. This is my first contribution, for what it's worth.


End file.
